Bittersweet
by Yue Guang Kuroneko
Summary: Hikaru is suffering. He loves her, he can't keep his mind off of her, but he knows his feelings would only ruin her life. His love for her is bittersweet...unless she returns them. [HikaruxHaruhi Oneshot]


**Title:** _Bittersweet_  
**Written by:** Yue Guang Kuroneko  
**Pairing:** HikaruxHaruhi  
**Rating:** eto...PG :3  
**Written for:** A challenge I should have finished a few days ago...  
**Dedicated to:** gem-san because she requested it :)  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness and just general suckage!  
**Summary:** Hikaru is suffering. He loves her, he can't keep his mind off of her, but he knows his feelings would only ruin her life. His love for her is bittersweet...unless she returns them.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES)...the day I own Ouran is the day I get to marry Kyouya. Now, what does that tell you?

**Bittersweet**

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

--

Hikaru just didn't understand. He didn't understand anything at all—his feelings, Kaoru's feelings, their predicament, their private world, _everything_. But that didn't bother him, not to the least. What truly troubled him was _her_ feelings—Fujioka Haruhi's feelings. And he wasn't just thinking about her feelings in general, but her feelings towards _him_, towards anyone in the Host Club. Were they all the same in her eyes, or was there someone special she held in her heart that was amongst them?

She was special to him and he couldn't even begin to comprehend why. Was it because she was different from those stingy "Hitchiincest" girls that designated him and Kaoru all the time? Or was it because she was the only one that had intruded upon his and Kaoru's world? Either way, it did and didn't matter to him. It didn't matter because she was special.

That was it; there was no other reason why she was extraordinary in his eyes, but somehow, when it came to the rest of the Host Club, it _did_ matter because everyone saw her as he did. Special, unique, beautiful, independent, and self-assured as well as self-motivated—so whether they existed or not, it didn't matter to her. She only looked straight ahead and that irritated him. He wanted her to look at him. He wanted her to glance over at him, the one who stood to the side because he would never be able to stand directly in front of her. He wanted her to catch him the way he was struggling to catch her. He wanted to scream out: "LOOK AT ME!" every time she unknowingly passed him in the hallways, but he never managed to muster his courage.

He was weak and pathetic when it came to her. She was different and that proved to be difficult. She wasn't just any fangirl of whichever type of man available—she just didn't care for those devices that got in the way of her studying. She was so absorbed in her studying that she never even noticed that she was being watched by him as he sat next to her in class. He could openly stare at her when she studied and she wouldn't have a single clue that he was watching her chew her bottom lip when pondering a question, or taking in her determined eyes as they took in the mounds of information that sat in front of her. She was oblivious to his existence in her world of textbooks and he hated it.

Hikaru wasn't particularly bothered at her feelings at first. He always thought '_she won't look at anyone, so I still have a chance_' and managed to get through the day without feeling predominantly jealous whenever their idiot president attempts to nurture her love for him or when those attempts get out of hand and she instantly calls on Mori-senpai for help.

He was at peace with himself (well, as peaceful as he could get in this situation anyway) until that fateful night at home with Kaoru:

"_Hikaru, we need to talk," Kaoru had said in a grave tone, setting his pen down from his Japanese assignment as he continued his math homework._

"_What about?" He retaliated in return, his brain filled with numbers and his fingers at his calculator, typing away earnestly like Kyouya-senpai whenever it came to the club's finances._

"_Haruhi," Kaoru said her name carefully._

_Instantly, his fingers had paused over the small, numbered keyboard and he slowly glanced up from his paper. He clenched his pencil tightly and managed to say, "What about her?" as calmly as he could._

"_What will you do if Haruhi doesn't feel the same way you do?"_

Hikaru closed his eyes tightly at the remembrance of Kaoru's heart-wrenching question. He never answered Kaoru and instead stood from his desk, muttering that he was going to take a bath. But ever since then, the question resonated in his head, repeating over and over whenever he was alone or when things began to turn dull.

He took extra care not to think about her and attempted to concentrate on his studies, but the entire studying aspect reminded him of her. It reminded him of the way her growing bangs would fall in her eyes as she gazed down upon the lettered textbook in front of her. That was how far his thoughts would go before he'd slam his books shut in agony, banging his head against his desk, shocking the entire class and the teacher.

Finally, he realized that studying definitely wasn't going to push Haruhi out of his head and figured that if he thought of pranks to brighten up the dull life that surrounded him, then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to think about her all of the time.

"_Another_ trick, Hikaru?" Kaoru panted, running alongside of him. "This is probably the fifth prank we've pulled today! Let's rest, ne?"

Hikaru ignored Kaoru's panting breaths and continued lugging the pail full of sticky honey behind him. He had to occupy himself somehow to keep himself from thinking of Haruhi; otherwise he was going to go insane.

"Let's stop, Hikaru," Kaoru placed a hand on his arm. "You're going to kill yourself this way."

"I don't know what you're talking about," He retorted, continuing to the Third Music Room, his recent plans of attacking their tono swiveling in his head. "Tono's gonna love this."

"You mean he's going to hate it," Kaoru gave an exasperated sigh. "You know that honey's not going to wash out for a long time, Hikaru. Why are you picking on tono so much today anyway?"

Hikaru clenched his fist around the pail, remembering the way Tamaki had hugged Haruhi tightly the other day. This was his revenge, but Kaoru didn't need to know that.

"No reason," Hikaru lied. "He's my favorite toy after Haruhi, that's all."

"Then shouldn't you be picking on Haruhi instead?" Kaoru asked him almost knowingly.

Hikaru ignored him and glanced about him warily before sneaking into the Third Music Room, setting the sticky pail on the floor with a soft, metallic clang that echoed in the large, empty-feeling room.

Lately, whenever Hikaru entered this empty room, he wanted to trash it. He wanted to rip the curtains, break every single piece of furniture in the room, and smash every bit of beautiful china on the floor. He was frustrated with himself, with his feelings. There was no way in hell that Haruhi would ever return his feelings; whether he flung them at her or offered them on a silver platter was no matter. She would never feel the same way.

"Hikaru," Kaoru gave one of his soft sighs. "Why don't we stop for today?"

Hikaru didn't hear him. He was too busy imagining the resulting image of the room once he was done with destroying it. Every piece of material left was going to be unrecognizable. The silky material of the curtains will be ripped into shreds of confetti. Every piece of china was going to be broken into little pieces. The bright flowers adorning the pathetic tables that aid in their hosting will be crushed underneath his polished shoes.

He wanted to create a life with Haruhi, a future. But since that was a dead-end, he might as well obliterate the present that might have led to that bright future. Then he'll return to the life he lived in the past, when only he and Kaoru existed in their world with no infiltrations, no excitement, and no Haruhi.

Clenching his fist at the thought of demolishing Haruhi's memory, he raised a leg and kicked the bucket of honey, spilling its golden, sweet contents onto the polished marble floors.

"DAMN IT!" He cursed at the top of his lungs, his scream echoing in the room.

"What's wrong with you, Hikaru?"

Hikaru froze at the sound of that voice.

"Haruhi," Kaoru seemed to have given a sigh of relief. "Tell him to stop acting crazy."

"What's wrong, Hikaru?" Fujioka Haruhi repeated, seemingly ignoring Kaoru's plea.

"Nothing," He answered shortly, staring intently at the sticky substance on the floor. "Why would anything be wrong?"

Haruhi said nothing and Hikaru clenched his fists even tighter.

"Well, I'll grab a rag and clean that up," Haruhi sighed, placing her books on a nearby table. "Kyouya-senpai would most definitely add more digits to my debt if he finds out that honey was adorning the Host Club's floor."

Hikaru clenched his teeth before spinning around on his heels, "HARUHI!"

Haruhi glanced up in slight surprise; her hand paused just above the doorknob, "What is it, Hikaru?"

"I-I'm sorry about the mess," He muttered, feeling his courage ebb away into nothingness. He couldn't confess to her. Not now.

Haruhi only gave him a forgiving smile and left the room.

"Go after her, idiot," Kaoru knocked him on the head impatiently. "If you don't tell her now, you'll never get another chance."

Hikaru felt himself rooted to the spot, taking in Kaoru's words. He wanted to tell her how he felt, how imprisoned he was to her. But those feelings would only burden her, burying her potential to be great, to be even more magnificent than she was now. In other words, he would only make the rest of her life miserable.

"I can't do it, Kaoru," Hikaru murmured. "I can't ruin her life that way."

Turning towards Kaoru, he felt a settled feeling at the pit of his stomach and for once, since the day he realized he loved her, he felt in control of himself, of his desires. He gave him a rather weary smile, energy drained from his eyes. Yes, this was how it should be—Haruhi still oblivious to his love and soaring past all of them with beautiful wings, while he stood to the side, watching, ever watching.

"DON'T BE STUPID, HIKARU!" Kaoru exploded, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him aggressively. "TELL HER HOW YOU FEEL RIGHT NOW!"

"What's the point?" He asked wearily, pulling away from Kaoru's deathly grip. "I'll only make her life miserable. She's like a bird—she can't be caged. I love her, but there's nothing I can do. It would be better off for her if I didn't say anything."

"Don't be an idiot," Kaoru snapped at him. "Haruhi deserves to know how you feel! You can't just lie to her and keep her in the dark!"

"Are you even listening to me?" Hikaru asked, feeling frustration welt up in his throat. "I LOVE HARUHI—AND SHE'LL ONLY SUFFER FROM IT!"

Suddenly, Hikaru heard a sharp intake of breath and spun to find Haruhi's eyes wide, the bucket of water and rag she was holding in her hand slowly falling to the marble floor. He could see her large brown eyes, staring at him as if staring into his soul for an answer.

Kaoru had slipped out of the door, unnoticed. Hikaru vaguely felt his presence vanish but that was it. There was nothing else except him and Haruhi.

"Is that true, Hikaru?" Haruhi asked quietly.

Hikaru was quiet and he willed himself to look away, feeling his cheeks flush. What was he going to say to her now? He couldn't just take back what he said—it would only mean that he wasn't serious, but he couldn't confirm it either, in fear that he would give Haruhi a burden she could never rid herself of.

After a moment's thought, he clenched his fists and said, "No."

Mentally, he kicked himself for telling her such a lie.

"Really," Haruhi stated flatly.

Hikaru sighed, deciding that lying to her would hurt their friendship because Haruhi looked so damnably cute when she looked disappointed, but it was heart-wrenching when she was disappointed _in him_.

"No," He sighed, sinking to the floor, a hand at his head tiredly. "I lied, Haruhi. I love you."

Haruhi was silent for so long that he was afraid that she had left the room before she heard him confess his feelings to her. He glanced up to find her still standing there, except with a cute smile on her face.

"You're a horrible liar, Hikaru," Haruhi spoke as she knelt down in front of him with a kind smile.

"I know," Hikaru sighed. "I'm sorry, Haruhi."

"There's no need to be," Haruhi spoke softly, touching his arm gently. "I love you too."

Hikaru's head snapped up quickly and his eyes widened as he realized that she had been close enough to kiss—and kiss they did. Haruhi's eyes were wide with shock at first before they softened with love and they both burst out laughing.

He pulled her into a hug, grateful of her warmth and her softness. As they held each other (oblivious to anything else around them), he remembered a quote he heard on a late-night radio show: "Love is bittersweet."

_Yes,_ he thought, closing his eyes as Haruhi leaned up to kiss him. _But not this love._

--

**OWARI**

**Author's Note**: Somehow, this didn't end up like I wanted it to and it's horrible, and not well written, and I'M SO SORRY, gem-san! If I have the time (and inspiration), I'll write another HikaruxHaruhi that won't be this horrible!

- "tono" is translated roughly into "lord" or "milord" and that's what the twins call Tamaki

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


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